Unbreakable
by Dramamamapwnsall
Summary: I will not fall. I am Jade West. I am unbreakable. Even when my past comes back to haunt me. Even when my world comes tumbling down. - Jade thought that after everything he'd done to her, it was over. That he couldn't ever hurt her again. Jade was wrong. Isolated from her friends, abandoned by the one she trusted most, Jade must face her demons alone. No matter the cost.
1. Chapter 1

**So, I realized the first one sucked. Here's the new one!**

Jade West had the perfect life. At seven years old, she had perfect parents, perfect sweet friends, perfect long brown hair, and she lived in a perfect apartment in New York City.

Jade West had the perfect life.

Until suddenly, she didn't.

In her perfect apartment in New York City, there stood a perfect piano. A perfect piano which the perfect little girl needed to learn how to play.

So her perfect parents hired the perfect piano teacher.

But her perfect piano teacher didn't turn out to be so perfect.

Jade sat up, bathed in a cold sweat. She ran a hand through her hair, staring around her dark bedroom.

"Just a dream," She whispered. She wished, for a moment, she had someone to give her a hug. She then quashed the thought, telling herself not to be a whiny little bitch.

She thought of her father, in a bedroom down the hall, where he and his new little fuck-toy, oh, excuse her, new wife, lay sleeping. If she came in saying she'd had a nightmare and asking for comfort, they'd send her to the loony-bin. And her Mother, across town in her shit apartment. If she told _her _she'd had a bad dream, the woman would probably let her smoke some pot a drink a few beers to calm down.

Yes, Jade knew better than to try to reach out to her parents.

It hadn't always been that way. When she was younger, she could run up to either of them, and be hugged and kissed and comforted.

But that was a long time ago.

Jade kicked away her blankets, which had become tangled around her legs, and slid off her bed. She was wearing a black tank-top, and purple and blue plaid boxer shorts. She sat down at her desk, and pulled out a pair of scissors. Gently, she pulled out a piece of paper, and slowly cut away at it, leaving a heart shape.

"Just a coping method," The psychiatrist had told her parents. "A form of self-expression. She doesn't have the words to explain how she feels about what happened to her, so she's trying to show it. It's perfectly healthy, and once she gets old enough to understand, and giver her own input, it should taper off."

'But it didn't,' Jade thought grimly, as she carefully shredded the heart into little pieces.

She froze when she heard the piano music. Standing up, she followed the sound. The only piano in the house was the one in the formal parlor that no one in her family ever used, except when her father had business parties, when he and Laurie (The aforementioned fuck-toy) acted as if they spent all their free time relaxing on those perfect sofas.

Jade tip-toed down the stairs, the music getting louder. She recognized the melody. La Lugubre Gondola No. 1, by Liszt.

It was the last piece she'd learned to play. She was seven years old, but that didn't change the level her parents expected her to reach. No "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" for her.

It was also the piece _he'd_ played when he was…

As Jade rounded the corner into the parlor, she saw who the player was.

"Hello Jade," He said, still playing. They'd reached the part in the music she'd hated, the abrupt stops. The music had been telling a chilling story before- Of the teacher who loved his little pupil, who taught her and cared for her, who once touched somewhere he shouldn't have, then promised her it would never happen again, until it did. Who hugged her far too often than normal, who'd taken to rubbing her back as she played- But now the story got scary. Now it got to the part where-

"Jade, Jade. I'd hoped you'd play for me once I'd found you. But this piano was so out of tune, so stiff, something tells me you haven't been practicing."

He stood up and walked towards her, the music still playing. Jade tried to run, but her feet wouldn't move. Slowly, he approached her.

"No one ever understood, Jade. No one ever understood how much I love you. But now they will."

Jade tried to scream, but no sound came out.

Slowly, he placed both his hands on her shoulders, and pulled her close. As his lips pressed against hers-

Jade woke up in her bed. Her sheets were soaked through with sweat, and she fought her way out of them, sprinting across her room, her stomach clenching.

She was doubly grateful for her private bathroom as she felt the remnants of her dinner claw their way out of her throat. After leaning her head against the cool interior of the lid for a moment, she flushed and walked out of the separate little room where the toilet was. She walked across the marble floor to the marble counter where she kept her toiletries, right next to the sink. She carefully brushed her teeth, then washed her face with a cool wash-cloth.

She glanced into her bedroom from the doorway, and saw the glowing numbers of her alarm clock telling her that it was five-thirty. As in, too late to go back to sleep.

Jade passed by her bathtub, which was raised about four feet off the ground (You needed a step-stool to get in, although on the inside was only about two feet deep), to her walk-in shower. She hesitated, unwilling to remove her clothes. This, too, had been a habit she'd developed after… Everything, although this, unlike her obsession with scissors, had faded over time… For the most part.

She stepped into the shower, turned on the water, and washed her hair while still in her tank-top and boxer shorts. She slid the bar of soap under her clothes to clean herself, but still didn't remove them.

When she stepped out, dripping wet, she grabbed a towel. Wrapping it around herself, she found a brush and her hair-dryer, and blew out her hair. She returned to her room, and stripped her bed, noting that the sheets were still soaked with sweat. Annette, the maid, would have them washed and back on her bed before she was home from school, Jade thought, dumping them down the laundry-chute, where they would land in the basement.

Jade was sometimes amazed at the vastness of this house after having grown up in a New York apartment, which may have been large for the city, but was still by no means as large as this palace.

Her mind flashed to the crappy, one-bedroom apartment that her mother lived in on the other side of the city. Funny, how her parents, who had once had so much in common, were now living such opposite lives.

Jade dug out some tan cargo-pants, a white tank-top, and a blue and red plaid button-down shirt. She stripped out of her pajamas, and hastily pulled on her clothes. She left the plaid shirt unbuttoned over her tank-top, and dumped her PJ's down the laundry chute.

She returned to her bathroom and applied her foundation, blush, heavy eye make-up, and a light pink shade of lipstick.

She exited her bathroom once more, then stopped by the jewelry box she had on her dresser (Although it had originally been pink, with a ballerina who spun around on the inside, wearing a pink tutu, Jade had painted the outside, along with the ballerina's tutu and slippers, black, then spent hours painstakingly painting blood dripping down her face). Jade dug around, pulling out post earrings that had little black stones on the end, a tiny diamond stud for her nose, and a thin silver hoop for her eyebrow. After making sure it was all in place, her hand automatically went to the one piece of jewelry she never took off, the little golden ring on a chain around her neck. She had gotten one for Beck, and one for herself on their first year anniversary.

Beck. Just the thought of him sent a wave of calm coursing through her. So she'd had a bad night. She'd improved in so many ways over the past few years with Beck, it barely even mattered.

Jade swung her back-pack over her shoulder, and walked down the hallway, towards the stairs. In Ryan (Her half-brother)'s room, she could hear Laurie begin her daily struggle to wake the obnoxious six year old.

Jade could have told Laurie that the only way to wake a kid like that was to dump ice-water on him, but she knew any suggestions she made would be largely ignored.

As she made her way down the stairs, she could feel herself relax. All she had to do was get across the foyer, out the door, and into Beck's waiting truck, and she wouldn't have to be back here for the rest of the day.

"Jade?" Jade stopped abruptly as she heard her father's voice. She turned sharply to the right (aware the whole time of the parlor that was on the left of the stairs, now behind her), and looked into the massive dining room. Her father was sitting at the table, reading the New York Times and eating his breakfast of an omelet and bacon, that he had every Friday morning. His glass of orange juice was positioned next to his cup of coffee (Which, Jade had to admit, was some of the best damn coffee she'd ever had, but what could be expected when you considered the fact that her father got an unlimited supply due to his investments in a Columbian coffee company?), and Jade could practically hear Rhonda, the chef, juicing more oranges for Laurie and Ryan's breakfasts.

"Yes?" Jade walked to the archway that formed an entryway into the dining room.

"I've been meaning to speak to you for a while now."

"About?" Jade knew her tone was hostile, but she honestly didn't care. She'd been so close to being out of the house, surely he was only doing this to torment her.

"You have your first Cotillion class next week."

"Excuse me?"

Her father sighed impatiently. "Laurie and I feel that you need to be behaving in a more lady-like manor, and we signed you up for Cotillion."

"Which means…?"

"You will be learning the proper way a lady of your social standing should behave, and in several months' time, you will be presented as a debutante."

"Presented?"

"It's really just attending a charity ball, Jade."

"You said presented."

Her father sighed. This is obviously not going the way he wanted it to. "Previously, the debutante ball was a way for young women to show that they were searching for a husband of suitable social sta-"

"I have a boyfriend," Jade said, cutting him off stonily.

"It's not like that _now_, Jade."

"I don't care what it's like, I'm not-"

"Oh, Jade sweetie!" Laurie cried, rushing down the stairs. She was wearing a designer sundress that Jade knew cost about two thousand dollars. "You're not getting upset about the debutante thing, are you? I did it when I was your age, and I had tons of fun! I'm still friends with those girls!"

Jade shot her step-mother a narrow-eyed look. "I don't need to be spending my free time socializing with a bunch of ass-kissing bimbos." She knew that the connotation implied that Laurie fell into that category as well.

"Jade Rose West, watch your language!" Her father yelled.

"Oh, sweetie, it's okay! Jade's just a little grumpy this morning, aren't you sweetie? She hasn't had breakfast yet. Rhonda! Get Jade a plate, would you?" Laurie called. The kitchen was connected to the dining room by a set of swinging doors.

Rhonda pushed through them, and placed a plate with eggs Benedict on it for Laurie, and another plate with cheesy scrambled eggs on it in front of Jade. Jade had no delusions that Rhonda made her favorite breakfast every morning just hoping Jade would stay, knowing that her love for cheesy scrambled eggs was shared with Ryan, and this should have been his plate, but she liked that Rhonda remembered nonetheless.

"Now, Jade, sweetheart, you're going to love Cotillion. It's quite the experience for a young lady." She kept talking, but Jade couldn't do anything but stare at this tiny blonde woman, so different from Jade's mother, wearing her couture sundress, then at her father, in his business suit, then, glancing behind her into the foyer, where she saw Claire, Ryan's nanny, leading him down the stairs, Ryan in the khakis and polo with a sweatervest (A freaking _sweatervest_) that were the required uniform for the advanced private school they'd placed him in where half the debutantes were going to come from, and she's struck by the fact that she, with her piercings and her tattoos and her dark clothes doesn't _belong_ there, and-

_Beep, beep!_

Laurie, who was in the middle of saying something about dress fittings, gave a startled jump, and Mr. West slammed his fist onto the table. "That goddamned horn of his! Do you know I've got three neighbors complaining to us about that boy, Jade?"

But at that point Jade had already scooped up her backpack, leaving her scrambled eggs untouched, and was heading towards the foyer. She stopped with her hand on the door-handle, and glanced over her shoulder, to see the parlor to the left of the large staircase that dominated the foyer, leading to all the bedrooms, and on its right was the hallway that lead to the library and billiard room and back to the kitchen, where there were the stairs to the basement where Annette did the laundry, then to her right, where Ryan was digging into her scrambled eggs, Laurie was half-rising from her chair still talking about hemlines or something, and Mr. West was glaring at her, his face flushed.

Then Jade scooted out the door, slammed it behind her, startling Ben, their gardener who was weeding the flower beds, and ran down the stone steps that lead to the door, down the drive-way, and into Beck's car.

"Good morning, beautiful," Beck said, smiling at her, handing her a Styrofoam cup of coffee (Which may not be imported directly from Columbia via one of Mr. West's business partners, but still tasted better, somehow), and she buckled her seatbelt and situated her backpack between her knees, her nightmare from the previous evening all but forgotten. And she rolled into school, not knowing that a certain Mr. Patterson, former piano teacher, was being released from the Bellevue psych ward after passing a final mental health examination. The first thing he did, when he got out, was buy a bus-ticket to LA.

**Creepy, huh? Let me know what you think!**

**Oh, and I'm sorry if I screw up any facts on the debutante thing, my experiance comes purely from the internet. Please let me know if you see any mistakes.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own it, and it's no longer simply Bade-centric, Tori, Robbie, Trina, and Andre all have plotlines coming in soon too, I just introduced Cat's because it was easy there.**

"I just don't see the merit of calling it tuna fish. It's common knowledge that a tuna _is _a fish, so why bother calling it tuna _fish_?"

"Well, I guess it's to clarify tuna fish, which is the stuff that comes in a can, from plain tuna, in full fish form."

"But sti- Oh, God, we don't need to see that guys!"

Jade and Beck haistily pulled away from each other. Jade had been _thoroughly _thanking Beck for the coffee, and Robbie, Rex, and Andre had seen more than they'd wanted to as they passed the car window.

"Keep it in your pants, guys!" Rex called out, and Jade showed them her middle finger as Beck laughed.

Beck stepped out of the car, picked up his bag and swung it over his shoulder, then crossed to the other car door, opened it for Jade, and offered his hand to help her out. Jade paused for a moment, bent to pick something off the floor of the car, and put it in his hand before stalking past Robbie and Andre.

The object in Beck's hand was Jade's bra.

"You know, sometimes I wonder why you put up with that, but then she does something like that..." Robbie said, staring at Jade's back.

Beck rolled his eyes and chucked the bra back in the car.

Beck had to admit, despite his cavalier attitude, knowing that his girlfriend was going around school without a bra on made it a _bit_ difficult to concentrate in class.

But he was not so out of it that when they'd passed a music room on their way to lunch, he didn't notice how Jade paused, listened to what was being played for a moment, then told him to go ahead, she'd meet him at their table.

She'd denied anything being wrong when he asked, told him she felt sick, and told him to quit bugging her.

Beck was worried. She usually didn't leave him alone at lunch (Claiming that there was too much of a chance that some girl would flirt with him who shouldn't be flirting with him), she usually hated getting to lunch late, (Claiming she'd end up in a seat where she got to much sun), and she never left without kissing him goodbye.

Logically, he knew that this could be a good thing, she was more trusting, she was more accepting of the sun... And yet...

He still couldn't shake the unsettled feeling.

Jade, meanwhile, was curled up in the corner of the janitor's closet, her knees drawn up to her chest, her head resting on them.

She'd learned that piece, and she'd spent weeks getting those two measures right, she'd always missed three notes, and those were the same three notes that the person playing missed, and _ohgod..._

_'Come on, Jade, you're a good girl. You can do it.'_

She hated crying. Really, she did.

She'd trained herself to not cry, the same way she'd trained herself to not sweat. Except she didn't ever cry. Even that time at Tori's, the make-up had smudged because it was freshly applied, not because she'd been crying. She hadn't cried since she was eleven.

She hated crying.

Still, she collapsed against the wall letting out dry, gasping breathes.

But she would not cry.

Cat sat up and stretched. "You sure no one can smell it?" She asked, slurring her words slightly.

"Yeah, there's so much airfreshener in here you can taste it. And I've got the fan running."

"Thanks, Sinjin." She smiled at the bushy-haired boy.

He blushed. "A-any time, Cat."

"Lunch is almost over, I'd better get back to class." She stubbed out the joint. "So, how much do I owe you?"

"This one's on the house."

Beck was concerned. Jade hadn't come back to class all afternoon, and she hadn't texted him to say she was going home sick.

Not that she ever went home sick. Although she'd skipped a class or two, he'd never known her to go home when there was any possible place else she could be.

He'd never actually been in her house, he'd only seen her father from a distance, he'd never met her mother, step-mother, or brother.

He knew her parents had divorced when she was twelve, that she'd lived in New York before that, that she lived with her father and, as far as he knew, she didn't visit her mother, who he knew nothing about.

He went out to his car, only to find Jade sitting on the hood.

She wasn't looking at him, just staring at her hands. To anyone else, nothing would seem wrong.

But her mouth was pinched, her eyes were suspiciously bright, her neck was stiff, and her toes were pointed, keeping her weight solely on the balls of her feet.

He knew this would have to be handled delicately.

"Hey you," He said, going to sit next to her.

"Hey."

"You weren't here for your last classes."

"Didn't feel like it."

"Why not?"

"I didn't feel like it."

Beck put his arm around her, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"I'm staying with you tonight."

"Okay."

They hadn't had sex.

Beck knew, as he waited patiently outside his bedroom door while Jade changed into some of the clothes she kept there, that pretty much any other guy wouldn't have stuck around with a girl who yelled at him when he talked to girls, or did things that she didn't like, and didn't put out. But he didn't see it that way.

Jade was... Complicated. Even after nearly three years, he knew that he was only seeing part of the picture. Jade wasn't like Cat or Tori, she wasn't light and fluffy. She was hard to get a handle on, and admittedly, the challenge was what first attracted him.

But as time went on, he realized it was more her fierceness, her determination, her strong will. Jade would fight to the death for what she believed in... Even if she was fighting towards total destruction.

And he liked a fight.

But Beck had no idea that as Mr. Patterson's bus rolled down the interstate, he'd entered a fight not only for Jade's heart, but also for her life.

**I swear to God, if someone tells me that I need to update more, heads are going to roll. You have no frucking clue how much work I have right now, be glad this came out when it did.**


End file.
